Throw My Love Away
by Ly Merrick
Summary: Santana and Quinn are in a relationship. Santana lives with Rachel in New York, however, and eventually Rachel begins to realize that she's not okay with the relationship playing out before her – she wants Quinn for herself. (Quinntana w/ Faberry as endgame.)
1. Tell Her No

**Pairing(s):** Faberry (endgame), Quinntana

**Synopsis:** (1 of 4) One night Santana and Quinn hooked up; what started out as a one-night stand turned into a relationship. They seem enamored with each other, and Quinn makes good use of her metro pass to see her girlfriend. Santana lives with Rachel in New York, however, and eventually Rachel begins to realize that she's not okay with the relationship playing out before her – she wants Quinn for herself.

**Author's Note: **This story came from a generous and genius prompt from an anon on Tumblr, and it immediately sparked my interest. I took lyrics from a song by The Zombies called, "Tell Her No."

###

**ONE**

_And if she should tell you "come closer"  
And if she tempts you with her charms  
Tell her no no no no…  
Don't hurt me now for her love belongs to me_

###

On the other side of the wall, Rachel could hear ungodly noises coming from Santana's room. While originally she had been beyond excited about Santana coming to live in New York, she hadn't counted on one thing: the weekend visits Quinn made. No, not the visits Quinn made to _Rachel _with the Metro pass she bought to visit _Rachel, _but the visits she made to see Santana. Some mornings she'd come out into the kitchen and see Quinn in nothing but a sweater and underwear, and have to excuse herself or be punished with semi-casual conversation.

It's not like Rachel was jealous or anything, because she definitely had more important things to worry about than who Quinn was sleeping with. They'd only ever been friends, so jealousy would be a weird reaction. Rachel was so _okay _with everything she even hung out with Santana and Quinn and watched movies with them. While they cuddled. And kissed. And whispered sweet nothings.

On an unrelated note, Rachel ate a whole lot of vegan ice cream when Quinn was around. It's not like she was trying to comfort herself or anything. The diva made her way out of her room, down the stairs and into the kitchen. In her spacious apartment, once so quiet and lacking sex noises, she felt a little bit better the further she got away from Santana's bedroom. Ice cream. She zeroed in on it and got herself a bowl, sitting down on the couch and tugging the afghan over her legs. Grumbling to herself, she worked on the bowl of ice cream like she had a vendetta against it.

She heard footsteps and glanced at the stairs. The happy couple was trying to sneak down the stairs, giggling with one another like a couple of teenagers. Rachel purposefully clinked her spoon in her bowl as she sat the thing down.

"Oh, hey Rach," Santana said in the dark, Quinn running into the Latina, their hands interlocked. "Why are you awake?"

"Oh, I don't know. Is your bed still in one piece?"

"We're…" Quinn seemed abashed, while Santana merely chuckled and went into the kitchen, sticking her head in the refrigerator to find them something to eat. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

Rachel couldn't bring herself to look at Quinn. Something bothered her deeply about this relationship. She felt embarrassed to look at Quinn, irrationally jealous and hurt by Quinn choosing to be with Santana.

She shouldn't feel this way. They had only ever been friends – although for the longest time Rachel had secretly been in love with the Cheerio. It's not like she could have ever told Quinn that or had a shot at it anyway. She was Rachel Berry, eternal Gleek and unattractive to the one person that mattered. At one time, she'd thought their friendship was leading somewhere; shared moments just after high school. And then Rachel realized Quinn only saw her as a friend, and any chance of confessing how Quinn made her feel would be just plain stupid.

So here she was today, too afraid to look at Quinn lest she reveal somehow, through a glance or an expression, that she had loved Quinn Fabray all this time.

"Whatever," Rachel murmured; she tried to end the conversation by folding the afghan around herself and rolling over on the couch, back to Quinn. The hazel-eyed girl continued to watch her. She could feel those eyes on her, that tug in her heart that made her bitter and sad. "Can you guys just keep it down? Please? I have class early in the morning and I need sleep."

"Yeah," Quinn's voice was soft in the dark.

"Come on, babe," Santana said, her voice slightly further away. On the stairs now, she assumed.

"Sleep well, Rach," the blonde's voice was nearly a whisper and it made Rachel hurt all over. "Goodnight."

When she was sure the couple had ascended into Santana's bedroom with their half-time snack, Rachel pulled her blanket tighter around her frame. "Goodnight, Quinn," she spoke softly though the blonde wouldn't hear her words.

###

When she got home from class, Quinn and Santana were snuggled on the couch together. Quinn was pressing her lips to Santana's neck when the door clicked open, and Rachel immediately averted her eyes. "Should have knocked."

"It's your apartment, too, short stuff." Santana offered a smile. "How was class?"

"Fine," Rachel responded as kindly as her mood would allow. "Thank you for asking."

On the couch, Quinn had ceased what she was doing before despite Santana's obvious desire for her to continue, and had turned her gaze back to Rachel. Convinced she was imagining things, she saw a flicker of sadness and guilt in Quinn's eyes. Imagining things.

She didn't know why it bothered her so much _this _weekend. For the most part she'd kept her jealousy and confused feelings in check. Only once in a while did she let it get to her, but this weekend she couldn't just brush it off. Rachel only hoped Quinn wouldn't notice her clear avoidance of conversation and eye contact. She touched her forehead, feigned a pained expression, "I have a bit of a headache. I'm going to lay down. You guys have fun."

Santana watched her go, as did Quinn, but it didn't take long to hear the sounds of playfulness between the couple.

Rachel closed her door quietly and flopped onto her mattress. She let out a muffled groan. She needed to shake this feeling off because the last thing she wanted to do was alienate her friends because she couldn't get over some high school _crush. _Okay, obviously it had been more than a crush. She'd felt some very strong things for Quinn.

It didn't matter. She needed to remind herself of what their situation was. She was their friend. They had welcomed her as a friend after high school and hadn't that been everything she'd wanted?

Something in her ached, hurt deeply when she saw Santana kiss Quinn. When she saw the look of bliss on Quinn's face when the blonde looked at Santana. She wanted Quinn happy, but it shouldn't hurt so badly to see that.

A tiredness blanketed itself over her and she tugged off her jeans and crawled under the covers. Rachel decided a nap was better than thinking, so she fell asleep.

The nap didn't last long, though, because she woke up in the evening to Quinn touching her arm.

"Rachel," the blonde whispered, "hey," as Rachel rolled over sleepily, hair mussed and feeling groggy as hell.

"Quinn?" The diva said the name before she realized who was sitting on her bed and she nearly fell off the other side of the mattress.

"Whoa, I'm sorry," Quinn caught Rachel by the hands and stabilized her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing in here?" Her voice was gravelly with sleep and she knew it. She sat up, subtly leaning back and away from the blonde. Quinn was so near that the scent of her shampoo made Rachel yearn.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. Santana's passed out on the couch. You seem upset this weekend." Quinn's eyes were clearly full of concern, "Not to mention you'll barely look at me."

Why should it matter to Quinn if Rachel looked at her? The brunette felt a flush of shame as she glanced away, "I'm just under a lot of stress in school," she murmured.

Quinn wasn't buying it. She reached over and touched Rachel's hand, her fingertips curving around Rachel's palm and holding it on her lap. "Have I done something to anger you?"

Guilt felt awful when you couldn't confess the truth. Rachel's heart picked up speed – all she could feel was the warmth of Quinn's hand in her own. It was delicious pain. This woman was not hers and it hurt like hell. "No. Not at all," she whispered after a moment, "I'm sorry if I made you think that. You're one of my best friends. You haven't done anything." After all, it wasn't Quinn's fault she was beautiful and desirable and easy to fall in love with.

"Hey, guys," Santana's sleepy voice came at the door. "Babe?"

Rachel couldn't have let go of Quinn's hand any faster had she tried. She tucked her hands underneath her legs and sunk into the bed slightly.

"Coming," Quinn stated softly, offering her lover a smile and standing up. Santana nodded to Rachel, her way of saying 'goodnight,' and disappeared. The blonde lingered near the doorway, "You sure you're okay?" She was holding her hand to her stomach as if holding on to the warmth, as if wounded by Rachel's very sudden rejection of the friendly gesture.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Goodnight, Rach," Quinn stated the words so softly Rachel had to strain to catch it.

Before Quinn shut the door, Rachel called to her. When the door inched back open, Rachel spoke what she hadn't let Quinn hear the night before, "Goodnight, Quinn."

The blonde lingered, and even in the dark Rachel wondered what she was seeing play across Quinn's expression. "Sleep sweet," the blonde all but whispered before she closed the door.

Rachel cried for the loss of something she'd never had in the first place.

###

During the week, Rachel was glad that she wasn't directly confronted with their relationship, because it was hard as hell to get this past weekend out of her head. Even while going through classes, she found herself thinking about Sunday night, exchanging goodnights, and the way it had been different that time.

"Earth to Rach," Santana looped an arm around Rachel from behind, hugging her best friend close, "where'd you disappear to just then?"

"Mm, nowhere," she disengaged gently. "How was your day?"

It was easier to be Santana's best friend when it was just herself and Santana. She didn't want to be the person who couldn't get over their issues and broke up friendships over romantic feelings. It hurt that she couldn't tell Santana she was hurting or why. They'd grown close as they lived together, so it made it even worse that Rachel's feelings for Quinn continued to flare up.

She'd never thought their one-night stand would become a relationship. She didn't understand how it happened or why. From then on she was history, her heart obliterated by what she couldn't have.

"My day was good. Pretty much lazed around, you know. It's good to have a few days off and some time alone, anyway." Santana dropped herself onto the couch and yawned. "So what was with you this weekend? You were weird."

"Sorry, I guess I just … didn't feel like myself."

"Does it bother you that we're all couple around you? 'Cause I can chill out around you. I know how you feel."

Rachel almost panicked, "What?"

"You know, being single when your best friends are in a relationship. Being single when anyone's in relationship," Santana popped a chip into her mouth and chewed.

Relief. Rachel glanced down, grateful Santana didn't actually know anything going through her head, "No, I mean it's totally.. it's fine. I don't want to rain on your parade. You two are happy together."

Santana smirked. "I don't know, I guess. I mean the sex is great."

Rachel nearly choked on her water. "Santana, please. As … close as we are, I'd rather not hear about yours and Quinn's sex life. I hear enough of it through the wall," she arched an eyebrow. Images flashed in her head that she didn't want.

"Alright, alright." Santana nodded, "Fair enough." The Latina chuckled to herself out of apparent self-satisfaction.

"You really are my best friend," Rachel picked at her shirt, avoiding Santana's eyes, "I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you, you know?" She looked over at Santana, who seemed particularly surprised and just a little perplexed.

Santana nodded, "I know you wouldn't, Rach. Come here," she motioned to Rachel, and the shorter girl got up from the couch and sat beside Santana. The Latina tugged her gently into her arms and rested her chin on top of Rachel's head, "Whatever you're going through, I'm here."

_Damn everything, _Rachel thought forlornly. She closed her eyes, tucked her arm around Santana, and tried not to think about anything.

###

And then there was the first weekend Santana worked the entire weekend and Quinn still stayed the whole time. This meant that she and Rachel were alone a lot.

It was torture pretending not to feel what she felt. She and Quinn sat next to each other on the couch, rewatching _Funny Girl _since it was the only thing Rachel wanted to watch right now, but at one point Quinn threw a blanket over them both and scooted closer.

Rachel was conscious of every part of her thigh that touched Quinn's, conscious of the pressure, of the way her body automatically froze up to avoid giving in to the need to be close to Quinn. Rachel found herself looking over at Quinn when she thought she could get away with it; the flickering light of the television illuminated her profile, her golden strands of hair.

"What's up?" Quinn asked softly later, having caught Rachel looking at her.

Rachel shook her head, "Sorry, I must have spaced off."

Quinn's eyebrows knitted together, but she didn't say anything.

The brunette eventually relaxed a little, until she felt Quinn watching her.

"Something isn't right. Between us, I mean," Quinn's voice sounded genuinely concerned. "What is it?"

"I don't know what you mean," Rachel spoke quietly, felt her heart hammer against her ribs as anxiousness made her head spin.

"You barely talk to me anymore. I thought we were friends?"

"We are!" Rachel felt panic surge to the surface. "We are! I just… I'm just … dealing with some things I guess and it's stupid and please don't worry about it, Quinn. Please." The last thing she wanted was to lose Quinn's friendship. If it was the only way she could ever have Quinn, it's what she would take.

"Dealing with what things? Rachel, you're one of my closest friends. You can talk to me."

"Not about this," Rachel whispered before thinking, then shook her head, laughing in a way that was lacking in mirth, "We cannot be talking about this. I can't talk with you about this. I wish I could but it would just … it would mess everything up. It would mess us up, it would make Santana angry, and it's just it's a pathetic nothing that doesn't matter." Her hands shook with panic. She got off the couch and moved into the kitchen without knowing why. She just couldn't have this conversation.

"Rachel," fully confused, the blonde had moved to Rachel's side and was wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders when the brunette all but jumped away.

"You don't understand," tears filled Rachel's eyes and she felt like pleading for Quinn to leave her alone. Yet it was the furthest from her wants. "You can't understand and you don't know how badly it would screw everything up. I'd lose everyone that matters," Rachel's eyes were welling over with tears, and she was trembling all over.

"Jesus, Rachel, you're shaking all over. Please, sweetie," Quinn moved forward again though she looked wounded by the way Rachel refused her comfort. However, the blonde got forceful and caught Rachel's wrist, "talk to me," she whispered as she pulled a shaking Rachel into her arms. "I'm your friend, you can tell me anything."

Rachel only laughed through her tears, muscles and body stiff in Quinn's arms. She was resisting every impulse to cling to this woman. She loved Quinn with a painful ferocity. Her fingers clutched only lightly onto Quinn's shirt.

"What's going on with you? What's this about?"

"I'm in love," Rachel spoke through her tears, words muffled by the shoulder of Quinn's shirt, "with someone who won't ever love me. Someone who's very much taken. I've been in love with them so long that it's killing me," she shouldn't say these things but couldn't help them spilling out of her as she finally relented. She was clinging to Quinn, crying, confessing without really confessing anything at all.

"Who wouldn't love you? Who wouldn't choose you? They have to be insane," Quinn's words indicated she had no idea that Rachel was talking about her. Rachel laughed again, laughed for the irony and the pain. Seeing that Rachel wasn't going to say another word, Quinn pushed her gently by the shoulders and held her that way, an arm's length away now, "Hey, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever known. Not to mention the kindest, most talented woman the world could ever know. You're everyone's dream girl and you really can't believe whoever this is would choose you?"

"It's not that easy, you don't understand," Rachel pushed Quinn's hands gently off of her. She was trembling less now, though she could feel the shake of her hands as she put her fingers to her mouth. "I can't even tell them because it would just … it would wreck everything I've worked years to build."

Quinn fell silent, and she was afraid that the blonde was figuring it out. Rachel closed her eyes tightly. How in the hell had this evening escalated like this? "So you haven't told them? How do you know it's not mutual?"

"Because they're in a relationship!" Rachel spoke a little louder than she intended to. "People in relationships don't have feelings for people outside of that relationship."

"That's not true," Quinn murmured cryptically.

Rachel's heart raced and she had herself in near hysterics. She leaned against the kitchen counter and cried, face hidden by her hands. She felt a warm body move in front of her. Quinn's hands stroked Rachel's hair, hushed her softly.

"Anyone who wouldn't love you, regardless of what the situation is, is absolutely clueless."

Rachel gave in, collapsed gently against Quinn and cried out her feelings, though she'd not gotten any further than she was before. Quinn didn't know _who _she was talking about, didn't know that she was the person Rachel loved so dearly. She probably wouldn't any time soon, or at all.

"You're perfect, Rachel," Quinn's words grazed Rachel's ear, "Don't ever doubt that."

Rachel very much doubted it, but hearing Quinn say this could almost convince her otherwise.

This was really fucked up.


	2. Breaking Up is Easy

**Pairing:** Faberry (Endgame), Brittana (Endgame), Quinntana,

**Synopsis: (2 of 4)** Rachel nearly melted down and gave up the goods. Luckily she didn't, and Quinn seems otherwise oblivious. Everything seems to be back to the usual – but is it?

**Author's Note:** Lyrics from "Tell Her No" by The Zombies. I got some great feedback so far and I just want everyone to know I really appreciate it. I know the first chapter dove right in but it's not going to stop there. I hope you all enjoy the ride.

###

**TWO**

_I know she's the kind of girl__  
__Who'd throw my love away__  
__But I still love her so__  
__Don't hurt me now, don't hurt me now._

###

It wasn't until a couple weeks later that Rachel really recovered from her little meltdown. She'd come pretty close to giving up the goods to Quinn, but luckily the two didn't talk about what had happened. Rachel managed to keep her emotions intact a majority of the time; she remedied her irritation by drinking hot cocoa late at night and reading while Quinn and Santana had their evenings together in the living room.

However, her sanity was not meant to last. Rachel was inwardly and simultaneously dismayed and elated to find out that Quinn was staying with them over Spring Break, instead of returning home to Lima; then again, not like any of them wanted to go back there, but Rachel knew that weekends were nothing compared to a solid two weeks waking up to a half-naked Quinn in the kitchen, Santana snuggled up behind her and the two oblivious to the way Rachel couldn't look directly at them when they were like that.

Rachel felt absolutely stagnant. She couldn't move whatsoever. To retreat any further would mean that Santana would start noticing that she was withdrawing from the both of them and start to ask questions. She was not going to lose her best friend, that was for sure, and she wasn't going to let Quinn feel bad in any way. So that night before she went downstairs to join them in the living room, she appraised her reflection, puffing up her chest a little bit.

"I can do this," Rachel spoke aloud to her reflection. "It's time to suck it up." She did. She arrived downstairs and reclined on the couch, Santana and Quinn coming into the living room with a big bowl of popcorn. Rachel scooted over to make room for them and tried to ignore the fact Quinn sat between herself and Santana, her knees pulled to her chest and tilted slightly in Rachel's direction.

"What movie tonight?"

"Some zombie movie," Santana answered, reaching over to turn off the light and starting the movie.

"I picked," Quinn answered, looking a little apologetic.

Rachel was surprised to know that Quinn knew she didn't like scary movies. Well, it's not that she didn't like them, just that they scared her quite a bit. "I think I can handle it."

"She might bruise your arm up, babe," Santana said with a chuckle and a half-hearted grin.

Rachel swallowed. It was like a bee sting, hearing Santana call Quinn babe. And then she reminded herself she was sucking it up and not letting it get to her. She couldn't help the situation. The brunette folded her legs up and half-hid her eyes behind her knees as the movie started. "I'll try not to," she said simply. "I save that for you, Lopez."

See, this was easy. Rachel could do this. This friendship meant more to her than feelings she might be battling. At least, she was doing a good job of convincing herself of that fact. They weren't even partway through the opening credits, however, and the image of a grotesque half-rotted zombie scared her enough to launch her out of her seat and practically in Quinn's lap.

Luckily Santana had the popcorn, but when Rachel realized whose arms had immediately wrapped around her, she blushed and extricated herself with quiet apologies.

"Nonsense," Quinn laughed, wearing an expression Rachel couldn't quite read as she slipped her arm around the brunette. "Unlike Santana, I'll try to keep you safe."

Rachel took a breath, looking up into the face she loved so much. Normally she would've avoided those hazel eyes for fear they'd see the adoration outpouring from Rachel's own. The diva nodded weakly, telling herself that this was okay. Friends did this. After all, didn't Santana snuggle her frequently when she needed comforting?

While dueling with herself about the morality of the situation, she realized she'd relaxed into the curve of Quinn's embrace and was surprised to find Quinn's hand petting her hair to soothe her. If the blonde knew how Rachel felt, she wouldn't be doing this. It was likely just a knee-jerk reaction to snuggling with someone, she supposed. Rachel tried not to overanalyze it. This was her friend. She could be Quinn's friend.

Halfway through the movie, the diva found her face buried against Quinn's shoulder at the height of some horrifying scene.

Santana's phone rang, and the Latina sighed. "I'll get that," Rachel thought she heard the Latina saying, and the weight shifted on the couch. When Quinn didn't release Rachel from her arms, Rachel let herself fully _feel _this moment. If she wanted to memorize the way it felt to have Quinn holding her, because it was really the only time she could. And she felt less guilty about it because Santana wasn't in the room. Quinn's hand was gently moving over Rachel's shoulder, comforting her.

What made her heart race wasn't the fact she was being held, but that Quinn was now gently pressing her cheek to Rachel's temple and she'd fallen completely quiet. Rachel's fingers toyed with the drawstring from the blonde's hoodie, and she wondered why Quinn was so quiet.

Part of her felt that Quinn was taking this moment for herself as well. Particularly the way she felt Quinn's other hand catch a few strands of Rachel's hair. Delicate fingers brushed a lock of brown hair behind Rachel's ear. The brunette's heart was racing, because Quinn was too affectionate for her heart to handle just as a friend.

"You okay, short stuff?" Quinn's voice was nearly a whisper, traveling only between the two of them. Rachel nodded, tucking her head closer to Quinn's shoulder for fear of seeing a pair of loving eyes looking at her. That would dismantle her.

As the scary part passed, Rachel gently disengaged, just as Santana sat back down on the couch.

Quinn craned her head to her girlfriend, "Who was it?"

"No one important," Santana answered then emphasized it with a shrug.

So they went back to watching the movie together. Rachel knew she'd be replaying her brief moments in Quinn's arms over and over again, torturing herself with the images of it, the scent of Quinn's shampoo and the subtle warmth that radiated from the blonde. Eventually, Quinn fell asleep with her head in Santana's lap.

Rachel was glad for the movie to end once it did, mostly because it was scary and she was bad at watching scary movies. That and she didn't want to think about her feelings anymore; being next to Quinn made that particularly difficult. So she excused herself. "I'm going to get some sleep," she spoke in a whisper so as not to wake Quinn, and rounded the couch to Santana's side. She kissed the Latina's cheek, "Night, bestie," she teased softly and met those dark eyes.

"Night. I love you, Rach," Santana murmured in the dark.

"I love you, too," Rachel answered just as softly, squeezing Santana's shoulder before padding up to her room and crawling into bed. As she lay there trying to sleep, she congratulated herself on a night conquered.

###

The next morning, she woke to the sound of Santana yelling in Spanish over the phone. Rachel wiped sleep from her eyes and peered over the railing; in the kitchen, Quinn was trying her best to calm Santana while she talked on the phone, but the Latina was too furious to be soothed.

"Well, it's not like we parted on the best of terms, anyway, is it? So you really expect to call me and be like 'hey let's get coffee,' not to mention I _have _a girlfriend –" a pause, a huff, "yeah right, because you'd call just to chat it up."

Rachel surmised that Brittany was trying to contact Santana after a rather rough breakup. Furniture had been broken during that particular breakup. The sleepy brunette rubbed her eyes as she watched from the railing, and saw Quinn turn her gaze to her. It caught her, and Quinn's expression always seemed to change, to soften somehow when she saw Rachel. The brunette stilled her nerves, offered a light wave before coming down the stairs and quietly making her way to the coffee pot.

"Brittany," Santana growled the name, "you fucking hurt me, man, and you think that I can just – " Another pause, muffled voice over the receiver, "whatever. I'll think about it." Santana all but slammed the phone as she hung up. Her shoulders were visibly tense, and Rachel glanced away just as she watched Quinn trying to massage her girlfriend's shoulders.

"Baby," Quinn murmured quietly, and the word hurt Rachel's heart. "Come on, calm down."

The brunette made her way to the living room and wrapped herself up in a blanket, sipping coffee as she let the couple talk.

"How did she even get my new number?" Santana wondered aloud angrily.

"I gave it to her," Quinn's words made Rachel turn her head to stare in surprise. Santana's reaction was the same. "I thought it was time for you to work through –"

"You're fucking kidding me. And you're supposed to love me."

"I do."

"Bullshit. Why would you give her my number when you _know _how bad she fucking hurt me?" Santana slapped Quinn's hand away from her arm.

"There's a time to be angry and a time to forgive. You two were best friends and I just … don't think that's something you should throw away forever. It's been what – a year?"

Santana just looked utterly betrayed, "You do this stupid shit all the time. You do what you think is best for me without even asking me." The Latina sounded more hurt than angry.

Quinn had moved forward and was pressing her lips to Santana's cheek, "Come on, you know I was just trying to help you get past all that. I don't want you to have to be angry all the time," those delicate fingers – the very same ones that had last night been stroking Rachel's hair – were sifting their way through Santana's hair.

Santana closed her eyes and sighed. "What happens if I meet her for lunch?"

"You talk."

"About what?"

"About what she did. She apologizes and you forgive her. You still love her."

"Not like – "

Quinn hushed her lover, touching her lips with two fingers, "It doesn't matter how. You love her and you need to forgive her."

Rachel was more than a little confused. She thought back to Emma Pillsbury mentioning something about how everyone had dated everyone and it was hard to keep track, and she thought it was a little more than accurate. Was Quinn giving Santana permission to do something or were they just trying to mend friendships?

Santana looked pleadingly at the blonde, but eventually sighed and nodded. "I'll meet with her for lunch. I guess I don't wanna hate her forever."

"Good girl."

So Santana went upstairs, apparently calling and making a time to meet with Brittany.

Rachel sat in a kind of stunned confusion, and turned to Quinn. "You two are still – I mean … "

"I just think Santana needs Brittany back in her life," the blonde shrugged as she sat on the chair opposite the couch, folding one leg over the other. "I'm not stupid." Quinn met Rachel's eyes. "We… we love each other, but – "

There was a but? Rachel watched with her brows creased.

"Let's face it," Quinn's voice was softer now, "Santana isn't in love with me. We both know her better than that. It doesn't make me sad, at least not a lot," the blonde seemed to be totally sincere, her expression sober and just a little sad, "I'm not in love with her," Quinn laughed as if at a private joke. "We love each other but Santana just likes the sex."

"So you're going to let her meet up with the girl she is in love with?"

"Santana deserves to be happy. We're not breaking up, at least I don't think so," Quinn's expression was tinged with a kind of amused honesty, "but we've never been .. exclusive. I'm not stupid, like I said. She hooks up with people a lot."

Rachel swallowed. She really didn't know how she felt about her friends engaging in that kind of relationship.

"She likes sex. She loves me, don't get me wrong, but the same way she loves you."

"—but we don't make out," Rachel stated simply.

"Humans don't like being alone, Rach," Quinn leaned forward, folding her hands and staring at them, "and I'm not alone when I'm with Santana. Santana and I had this talk a dozen times. I thought you knew."

"That you two were just using each other?"

"That's not what we're doing."

Rachel felt a little passionate about this, "It kind of is," she sat forward, her passions stirred, "because you use each other for sex and for companionship even though you're not in love. Isn't that lying?"

"Not if we both know," Quinn met Rachel's eyes. "Not if we both make that agreement in the beginning."

"What about love? What about real love?"

Quinn stared at Rachel in a way that made the brunette shrink a little and sit back, "Real love doesn't happen this early in life, unless you're lucky. And I'm not that lucky."

"Aren't you selling yourself short? I mean, can't you understand why it's so hard to think that two people I love so very dearly are selling themselves short for something temporary?"

Quinn shrugged her shoulders, "Rachel," she spoke her name, imploring, "I don't even know if Santana is going to end up hooking back up with Brittany, falling in love with her, but what kind of person would I be if I didn't let someone I loved – a friend, a lover – go after what made them happy?"

Rachel felt conflicted emotions too complicated to even decipher. She looked into her coffee cup. She felt cheated somehow, like all her suffering had been over a misread situation. She felt as if she'd been lied to when it had nothing to do with her. All the same, she'd felt so broken over not having a chance to be with Quinn and now Quinn was telling her that she knew Santana and herself were just temporary all along?

"Why does it bother you?"

"It just … I can't fathom not being in love with the person I'm with."

"Sex doesn't always mean you're in love with someone," Santana piped in as she came down the stairs. She had apparently heard some of the conversation.

"Thanks, honey," Quinn sat back, sticking her tongue out.

This was just too unorthodox for Rachel. It troubled her deeply.

"Besides, Quinn's in love with someone else," Santana said with a wave of her hand. "We keep each other safe until it's time for the real thing," she spoke as if it was simple. Maybe it was. It was certainly its own brand of weird and twisted, but hearing Santana say it that way started to make sense.

And then it hit Rachel that Santana had said, _Quinn is in love with someone else. _Her eyes went wide and she tried not to look up at Quinn right away. Who? Was it someone she was in school with?

Rachel glanced at the both of them, "I'm sorry. I guess it's just hard for me. I don't think I could be in a … relationship if I thought it was only temporary."

"'Cause you've got this big heart, you know," Santana sat next to her best friend. She wrapped an arm around Rachel and pulled her close. "That's what we love about you."

Quinn cleared her throat, "So did you decide on a time?"

"Yeah. I gotta meet her downtown."

"You ready for it?"

"You didn't give me much of a choice," Santana answered a little sourly.

"I'm just trying to give you a push," Quinn spoke softly, "lately it's like … you're here but you're not."

"Sorry."

Rachel was holding on to the hand draped over her shoulder, listening to the conversation with a kind of perplexed expression.

Quinn waved a hand dismissively, "It's just time."

And so it seemed that Rachel's perceptions were shattered. She didn't know whether to be angry or elated, though she actually had no reason to feel any anger. It's not like any of it had involved her. She kissed Santana's cheek goodbye and watched as Quinn hugged Santana tight and wished her luck.

What a strange turn of events.

###

After Rachel got out of the shower, she was brushing her hair when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. "Come in," she called.

Quinn appeared only a moment later, "Does it really weird you out?"

Rachel glanced at the reflection. Quinn was watching her in the mirror, and the Hollywood-style lighting of Rachel's bathroom made the blonde's eyes shine particularly clear in the glass. "I suppose it makes sense, in a way. I guess I just … feel naïve. Or stupid. I mean I've been a friend to you both and I had no idea. I never seemed to … expect that you two didn't want to be together forever." She brushed her hair, ignoring all the feelings boiling up inside of her.

"You're not stupid, you're just more normal than Santana and me." Quinn's voice was soft. Rachel watched her reflection as she picked at her nails and avoided eye contact. "You're lucky."

Rachel laughed, "God," she rolled her eyes.

The blonde looked up, "What? You are. I mean you still believe in real love. You still believe it can happen, even if it's complicated for you."

Rachel frowned a little, and set her brush down quietly. She leaned against the bathroom counter, arms folded. "Santana said you're in love with someone."

Quinn's eyes widened a little and she averted her gaze, "She says that all the time. I mean, to me, she does. She says I am but I don't think I am."

"Oh," Rachel watched carefully. "Who is it? I mean – who does she say you're in love with?"

Quinn laughed, "Nobody," her answer was too easy, came too quickly. The blonde shook her head. "Anyway," changing the subject, she pushed herself off the door frame, "come take a walk with me while Santana is out so I don't worry about her."

Rachel hesitated before nodding, getting a light jacket and making her way down the stairs after Quinn.

Had she been right all along, she questioned herself, to feel guilty about her feelings? Or now that she knew the nature of Quinn and Santana's relationship, was it okay to feel how she did about Quinn?

Besides, it didn't give her any more of a chance than she had before. If Quinn had _real _feelings for someone else, then likely she didn't have any kind of shot. Rachel resigned herself to the friend-zone, an all-together miserable place to be most of the time.

However, as she sat in Starbucks later that afternoon with Quinn, laughing and talking about nothing in particular, it didn't feel so bad to be Quinn's friend. In fact, it almost felt easy.

###

Quinn and Santana didn't officially break-up until three days later when Quinn told Santana she needed to grow some balls. Santana had said the same in return. Rachel had overheard the small spat and stayed in her room – she didn't always like being visible witness to everything that the couple went through.

"Look, I love you," Quinn's voice could be heard, just barely, through the door. "I just want you to be happy and I know _Britt _is that happiness for you. These last few days every time she texts you, your eyes light up and your face – I see the real you. You only ever look that happy when you're talking to her. It's _okay _to still be in love with her."

Santana almost sounded tearful, but maybe that was just the way it sounded through the wood of the door. "What if she hurts me again, Q?" Rachel's eyes cast up toward the bedroom, looking at the closed door.

"She won't. And even so, you have to take that chance. Love is worth that."

"You're one to talk."

"Shh –" Quinn hissed. Her voice went quieter, as if trying to keep it from traveling, "don't."

"What, come on, Q? Who's lying to themselves now?"

"Please."

"Fine."

"This is about you. You need to be single. You need to go after what you really want. I'm not going anywhere. You're my very best friend, you know that. I'm still going to be here all the damn time."

"I said _fine._"

So they broke up that day, and Rachel tried not to think too much about what she'd heard. Even though Quinn's _don't _stuck in Rachel's head, the way she'd seemed so determined for what Santana was implying to stay cryptic and unrevealing.

The weirdest part was that both girls were in a brilliant mood and it was almost as if they were happier being broken up. Santana left with what was almost a bounce in her step, and she'd kissed both Rachel and Quinn on the cheek before leaving.

Rachel was making lunch when she looked up to see Quinn stretched out in a chair, reading a book. "So uhm, is she going to see Brittany?"

Quinn nodded in response, "Yeah."

"Did you two – "

Another nod.

"And you're not sad?"

Quinn shook her head. "It's not like I'm losing her."

"Is that a normal lesbian thing? To be friends with an ex like nothing happened?"

The blonde nearly burst into laughter, "_God, _I think it is, actually."

Rachel gave a half-smile and continued cutting up her oranges. She dropped the bits into the salad, dribbled some dressing over the top. She mixed both bowls a little before bringing one over to Quinn and sitting down on the couch, eating her own. "Won't it be strange, knowing she's sleeping with someone else?"

"It'll take some getting used to," Quinn seemed to admit a little sheepishly, "I mean, I am human."

Rachel nodded, inwardly relieved at this concession. At least she knew that Quinn had some sense of self-preservation, some sense of _I want this to be mine. _… Not like it mattered, or would matter in Rachel's life. "Do you think," Rachel squeezed the juice of an orange slice onto her tongue, savoring it for a moment, "that if you were really in love, it would be harder to let someone go?"

"Absolutely," Quinn's tone always seemed to get a little more quiet on this subject. It had when they were in Starbucks as well. "After all, I think when you're in love you never really let that person go. You never … stop feeling like everything they do affects you."

Rachel avoided Quinn's eyes, eating her salad and picking at some of the bigger chunks of lettuce. "I know what you mean."

"So this person – " Quinn began to inquire, and Rachel's gaze shot up. "The person you told me about when you were upset," the blonde didn't know what she was asking.

Rachel swallowed, nervously clinking her fork against her bowl, "My salad's gone," she said absent-mindedly.

"Have you tried to talk to them?"

"Quinn," Rachel warned softly. "I can't just do that. I can't … I mean." It was different now. Quinn _wasn't _with anyone and Rachel wasn't a good liar. If the blonde inquired too much, she'd figure it out. "Can we just not talk about that?" She pleaded quietly, her back to the living room.

Beside her, Quinn placed her bowl in the sink. "I just think you should give yourself a chance," she pressed quietly.

Rachel wouldn't look at her. Instead she busied herself with washing the empty bowls. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," Quinn challenged. "Your happiness matters."

"I'm just fine the way I am."

"You wouldn't be happier with this person?"

"Of course but it's just … " Rachel growled in frustration. Part of her felt like Quinn was goading her, challenging her, the way they always had as they were growing up in high school, but right now she didn't want to do that. "It's complicated."

"How?"

"It just is!"

Quinn arched an eyebrow, "Is this some – "

"Quinn Fabray!" Rachel put the dishes in the sink rather loudly, exhasperated. "I can't talk about this, okay?" _Not with you, _the brunette thought. "Please," she pleaded, her tone softening markedly as she turned to find Quinn watching her in earnest.

The blonde only nodded, "I'm not trying to make you angry. I just want to see you happy."

"I don't understand why you're on some hero quest to push everyone into their happiness, I mean I don't see you going for your own. Clearly there's something Santana knows that you're not dealing with."

That was enough to silence Quinn. The blonde stayed in a stunned silence as Rachel sat on the couch.

"Now, are you going to watch television with me or not?" Rachel was afraid she'd pissed Quinn off; she glanced behind her and met nearly tearful green eyes. She was surprised to see the blonde nod her head and felt the cushion sink as she sat next to Rachel. "I'm sorry if that was harsh."

"No," Quinn was quiet. "You're right. I push everyone else but I'm not pushing myself."

Rachel watched Quinn with quiet interest.

"I'm scared, Rachel," Quinn spoke after a little bit of silence and television. "If Santana's right, that means that my whole world has been … something entirely different than what I thought it was. Everything I've ever done will have been for reasons I didn't even know."

The diva listened, only looking over as she realized she was getting closer to cracking Quinn's exterior.

"I don't know if I can deal with the knowledge that I've been lying to myself for years."

Rachel laughed, then covered her mouth with her fingers, "Sorry," she murmured, "I just … I know _exactly _what you mean." Strange how Quinn would be experiencing the exact same feeling Rachel had back when she figured out that she was in love with the blonde. She'd spent a good amount of time questioning everything she'd ever done to or for the former HBIC.

Both girls fell silent after a little bit, the television a low murmur in the background.

"Is it the lesbian thing? That you've been a lesbian all along and didn't know?"

Quinn shrugged noncommittally.

"Or is it that you… that you've always had these feelings for this person you've known for years?"

"That's what Santana thinks."

"What do you think?" Rachel challenged, her heart picking up a bit at the implication. That means… it could possibly mean that Quinn … had feelings for Rachel. That she was just as scared to admit them as Rachel was to admit her feelings for Quinn.

"If she's right, that means she's probably going to win money from a betting pool she started in high school."

Rachel swallowed, pretended not to react. The obvious implication was that this girl she had fallen in love with over the years might _possibly _be reciprocating those feelings even if she didn't admit it yet.

"I'm just not ready to think about it yet."

Rachel nodded quietly, watching Quinn carefully. "I understand."

###

Santana returned home later that afternoon with a much-welcomed and familiar face. The Latina was holding Brittany's hand, and that was always a good sign. Rachel hugged the taller blonde and former Cheerio as tightly as she'd ever hugged anyone. She hadn't seen Brittany since she and Santana had broken up.

"So I hear you've been having sex with Santana," Brittany teased Quinn by way of breaking the awkwardness, but then hugged Quinn close.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Quinn answered back with nervous laughter, pulling away.

Santana laughed, "Yeah, nobody is _ever _sorry about having sex with me. I'm just sayin'."

"This is actually true. It's okay," Brittany smiled softly and touched Quinn's cheek. "I'm glad you … brought this together. Thank you."

Quinn smiled quietly in response, "That's what friends do."

So that weekend the four of them had a movie marathon of every _Bring It On _even though the sequels were terrible. They ate popcorn and made cookies at three in the morning. It felt like high school again – well, it felt like high school had the trio not been tormenting Rachel for the first two years or so.

Every once in a while Santana would squeeze Quinn's shoulder. Rachel assumed this was the Latina's way of finding out if she was okay with her and Brittany being back together. The brunette would watch as Quinn only smiled and rolled her eyes, shoved the Latina's hand away.

Things seemed to be okay, and Rachel thought that human relationships were more complicated than she cared to analyze at the moment.

When five a.m. hit and the birds were singing, there was the slight question of where Quinn would sleep. The blonde had argued with Santana about sleeping on the couch, when Santana had continued insisting she just crawl into bed with Rachel. At this point Rachel was exhausted – but not too exhausted to catch the undertone passed between Santana and Quinn that _this 'argument' _was directly related to what Quinn refused to admit to herself.

Rachel was climbing the stairs when she heard Santana whisper harshly, "It's not like I'm telling you to go have sex with her; I know you're not ready for that." Upon hearing this, Rachel tripped up the stairs. Hearing the clatter, all three girls on the lower landing looked up at the brunette.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asked, disregarding what Santana had said.

Maybe she'd heard Santana wrong. She got up a little clumsily, "Fine, just tired." She flushed red with embarrassment. "Quinn," Rachel asked softly, "just come sleep in my bed. There's plenty of room and I won't have you sleeping on a couch."

"Uh, right. I mean of course."

As Rachel glanced back, she saw Santana slap Quinn on the shoulder – very much like she was saying 'atta boy! – and watched Quinn slap Santana's hand away, giving her a stern look.

The brunette wondered if she was just building all of this in her head, giving unimportant actions context. Maybe she just _hoped _Quinn had feelings for her. She lay on her stomach, head turned to the side, and she watched Quinn's silhouette slip into bed beside her.

"You're okay sleeping here, right? I know we've not always been really close or anything," Rachel was secretly fishing for information, fishing for some kind of indication that she wasn't losing her mind or making things up.

Quinn shifted in the bed, "I'm fine. I just … didn't want to invade your space."

"You're welcome to," Rachel nearly whispered this bit, feeling a little nervous saying something so open to interpretation. Her dark eyes searched the dark, adjusted to it, and searched for Quinn's expression. The blonde had turned her head toward Rachel in the dark. "I mean – "

"Shut up," Quinn hushed softly.

Rachel smiled, though the blonde wasn't likely to see it. "Goodnight Quinn," she stated through her grin.

"Night Rach," the blonde answered softly.

Rachel could have sworn she felt Quinn shift closer before she closed her eyes.


	3. It's Really Happening

**Pairing:** Faberry, Brittana

**Synopsis:** Santana and Brittany are officially back together, but Quinn's still around all the time. And she seems to be battling some feelings of her own, feelings Rachel needs to hear to believe.

**Author's Note:** It's strange working with these four girls. As a group they affect each other in everything, even when I write these stories. Every story is different, and this one is certainly different from anything I've written. However, I love the sense of close friendship that lies between all four of them. I like the idea that they want each other's happiness. I want to thank everyone for their reviews and their patience. Lyrics for this story come from "Tell Her No" by The Zombies. This story is written for that wonderful anon (who is now not anon) who came up with this idea. I hope I'm doing it justice and that you're enjoying it.

###

**THREE**

_Tell her no no no no no-no-no-no__  
__No no no no no-no-no-no__  
__(don't take her love from my arms)_

###

It was conspiracy. Rachel was sure of it. Santana and Brittany were absolutely conspiring against her. If she weren't so annoyed with them, she'd call them and tell them it just wasn't a very nice thing to do.

The newly reunited couple had decided to rent a hotel room for the week. Santana had said it was because she didn't want Rachel to feel like she had to soundproof her room, but the gleam in her eye as she looked at the brunette said something more like, 'I'm going to leave you two alone until you figure it out.'

So here she was, cooking dinner for just herself and Quinn, feeling awkward as hell. She didn't know if it was awkwardness for the sake of awkwardness or if it was underlying nerves. So she busied herself with chopping onions and peppers for the sautéed dish.

Quinn was in the living room humming to herself and as Rachel glanced up, they momentarily matched line of sight. Those green eyes held Rachel in place and she felt a fresh wave of butterflies. The brunette smiled, trying her best to act 'normal,' and went back to cooking.

The pan beneath her hand sizzled, laying the chicken breasts over a bed of veggies, and she listened keenly to the sound of Quinn's humming-turned-singing. She recognized the song – it was some popular song on the radio, a semi-melancholy bit.

The thing Rachel most felt confused about was why she felt so damned awkward when it was just the two of them. Then again, she supposed most logically that it was simply the fact Quinn seemed to reciprocate feelings Rachel had. And that they'd been sleeping in the same bed for a few days. Now there was no real _excuse _for Quinn to sleep in Rachel's bed. As she cooked, she wondered if Quinn would opt to sleep with her.

And she wanted her to. She wanted her to stay in the same bed with her. In fact, she'd been giving some thought to Quinn's constant back-and-forth and the fact that eventually Quinn had to return to her Yale campus made her kind of sad. It would be … an empty bed without Quinn. And they hadn't even admitted anything to each other yet.

The cynical part of Rachel said that Quinn didn't feel anything. She was making it up in her head to soothe herself for feelings she'd been hiding and holding from Quinn since they were in high school. The cynical part of Rachel doubted everything, even if it were held right in front of her face.

When dinner was finished, she plated both meals. "Hey, come sit down," she offered simply as she set Quinn's plate beside her own. She climbed up on a stool and crossed her legs; she ate in relative silence. When she felt Quinn sit next to her, she offered a smile.

"This looks amazing, Rach," the way Quinn said Rachel's name was vaguely like the purring of a cat. It was smooth and warm, and made Rachel swallow a mouthful.

Covering her mouth a little, Rachel responded with a coy, "Thank you."

"It still blows my mind you let yourself eat poultry. You were so adamantly vegan when we were in high school. I never thought I'd see you eat meat."

"You're about the only person who ever _noticed _it in high school."

"I noticed everything," Quinn spoke quietly when she said this.

Rachel glanced over at the blonde, watching her eat the meal with eyes averted.

"That happens when you're on the outside sometimes," Rachel answered. She thought this was a clever way of discovering what exactly Quinn meant when she said cryptic things like this (which lately was _often) _and if she meant them in the way Rachel's heart hoped she did.

Quinn laughed, "You know, it's funny. We spent so much time in high school being each other's enemy, I think we managed to alienate each other far more than we alienated anyone else."

Rachel smiled at this, nodding in agreement. She finished her plate of food a little quicker than Quinn; it was in part because though she did sometimes indulge in poultry or fish, she didn't eat large portions. She had the ghost of vegan guilt when she did. Hiram, her father, had been surprised to find out that Leroy had somehow coerced Rachel into trying real meat after their daughter graduated high school.

"I wonder why," Quinn added this next part in a thoughtful way, as if she was asking herself more than she was asking Rachel.

Rachel laughed, "Can't it just be classic high school rivalry?"

Quinn smirked, shook her head, "Is that _really _what you think it was, Rachel?"

Rachel's olive skin reddened up through her cheekbones. She quickly got up and began cleaning up after the mess she'd made in making dinner (she was getting the cooking thing down pretty easily, but she still made some interesting messes while cooking). "I don't know, I guess I hadn't thought about our motivations. I mostly think it's the past and … we're friends now."

A murmur of agreement from Quinn, and then the sounds of eating.

Rachel felt tightness in her chest as she tried to bring down her sudden rush of nerves. Damn Quinn. She still had the incredible capacity to dismantle Rachel with one sentence, one question, or even a look. Of _course _Rachel had thought about their motivations. Over and over again. Particularly she thought about Quinn's, because she knew her own. She had always been a little scared of Quinn and the fact that she seemed inexplicably important to her throughout the years. Teenagers aren't necessarily equipped to understand what it feels like to fall in love. Yet, that's what Rachel had been doing year after year with Quinn.

Quinn however, she remained at arm's length throughout their years together first as enemies and then friends, excluding the times she confided in Rachel. Even now, Rachel wondered at Quinn's motivations, but it hit her that maybe _she _had been keeping Quinn at arm's length. Even in this very moment she was doing so. She had more of an opportunity than she ever had to go after the girl she loved and out of fear she maintained a comfortable distance, even emotionally.

"The weird thing," Quinn was suddenly beside her, taking a dish from her hands, rinsing it off and drying it. And then another, and another, "is that sometimes when we were too young to get what we were really doing to one another, I felt closer to you than I'd ever felt with anyone else. And now I don't know what to feel."

"Why?" Rachel passed her another dish, glanced at the blonde carefully.

"Because I don't think I really know who you are these days."

Rachel _almost _got defensive, but as she stopped what she was doing, she found an honest gaze waiting for her, "What do you mean?"

"You didn't really hide the truth about anything when we were young," Quinn answered simply, setting another dish in the drying rack. "And now there's a wall between you and everyone else. I watch you sometimes," Quinn spoke this part as if it were a question, although it wasn't, "and I see you stuck so deep in your own thoughts I don't think you see the world around you anymore. What do you think about?"

Rachel swallowed air, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. At first she laughed, a nervous tittering laugh, "I mean it's… I don't think about anything." She was in the middle of rinsing a dish when Quinn turned the water off, flicked a few drops at Rachel. The brunette flinched in reaction, looking a little confused and helpless, "I .. feel like you want to know what's going on in my head when I don't even understand most of the time."

"You do, though. You get it. You're just scared," understanding hazel eyes urged Rachel to stay rooted where she was. "You're scared like I used to be. I don't know what scares you."

Rachel felt a pair of hands encircle her own beneath a warm, dry towel. Quinn's fingers were moving the cloth over Rachel's slightly soapy, damp hands, drying them for her. "You do," she whispered this part, barely enough for her own ears to catch.

Quinn stopped what she was doing. "Why?"

Big brown eyes shone with a fearful look, and Rachel shook her head, "I know you know, so why do you want me to say it?"

"Because if you don't get over the fear then we're never going to get past this wall you've built up."

"I had to," Rachel realized Quinn was still holding her hands, and she gently took them away. "I can't … it's too important to … " she groaned in frustration. She was normally so good with words. She paced away from Quinn before she started putting the dry dishes away. "It's a big risk," was finally what surfaced from her lips.

The floor squeaked a little beneath Quinn's feet, and Rachel felt a pair of hands on her shoulders; feminine fingers trailed to her biceps, urged Rachel to stop with just the lightest bit of pressure. "Talk to me," Quinn's voice betrayed some kind of agony, a yearning. "You mean … everything to me," this part came out in a bit of a choked whisper. Rachel's arms were lowering to her sides, and Quinn's fingers traced over the curve of Rachel's shoulders, her arms, and eventually Quinn moved close enough for Rachel to feel her body heat.

Rachel breathed in as quietly as possible, though the temptation was to gasp because her emotions were getting to her, _damnit, _and Quinn's forehead was pressed to her shoulder-blade. Those fingers, Quinn's gentle hands, had slipped their way to Rachel's stomach and suddenly Rachel wasn't being asked anything. Quinn was holding her from behind, embracing her. The brunette was having a difficult time breathing because the blonde was conveying more than words ever could in this one simple embrace.

Rachel's hands had a mind of their own, covering Quinn's and grasping them. She wondered if Quinn was leaning closer or she was leaning against the blonde. Was this really happening?

"It was me you were talking about that day," it was a question but it wasn't. Quinn's voice was suddenly warm near Rachel's neck, the blonde's chin resting on her shoulder.

Rachel could only nod.

"How long?"

The brunette burned inside and out. It was an emotional burning, the kind that radiated from her heart outward. She pried Quinn's hands from her carefully, just enough to turn around in her arms. And without thinking, Rachel hugged Quinn hard enough to squeeze the air out of the taller girl. She buried her face against Quinn's neck.

"You're shaking," Quinn observed.

She was right, Rachel realized, and it made her hold all the tighter.

"What are you so scared of?"

Words wouldn't come. They couldn't. All Rachel's feelings were stuck behind a ten foot wall and had been for so long that Rachel forgot how to explain any of it. Quinn was suddenly pulling away, hands cupping Rachel's face. Hazel eyes searched Rachel's teary brown eyes, "I don't know," she laughed. It was a tearful sort of laugh, and Rachel realized she was choked up.

Quinn's eyebrows knitted together in concern. She was brushing away stray tears, stroking the skin of Rachel's cheek, and suddenly her thumb grazed Rachel's bottom lip. The brunette was almost gaping at the feeling of it. It was now that she saw Quinn's eyes were dilated just enough to indicate that what they _both _felt was chemical, beyond their control.

Rachel was breathing a little heavy as she realized Quinn was leaning in, enraptured by the magnetism between them both. This thing she had always secretly yearned for might actually be happening, if Rachel wasn't dreaming it.

Quinn's lips brushed over her own, barely enough to feel at first, and then Rachel felt her knees weaken. She leaned back against the counter, a hand catching the edge of it. Her free hand slipped to the back of Quinn's neck and to her own surprised, forced Quinn in for a much more intense kiss.

It was exploring at first, without hunger or demand; it was two souls finally coming together in the way they'd meant to for such a very long time. Quinn whimpered in such a quiet tone it barely escaped the air between them. Rachel was fed by the sound, and suddenly she was far more demanding in her kiss. She'd wanted this for such a long time that she couldn't help it. Both hands pulled Quinn closer, tugged in such a way it left wrinkles in the fabric of Quinn's shirt.

Rachel's tongue tasted the surface of Quinn's lip, just enough to get a reaction from the blonde, and Rachel felt control surge through her. She kissed her like she meant it. Heat was building down to the brunette's toes, and Quinn's fingers were rough as they grasped Rachel's hair and pulled just enough to pull them apart. She was grinning, "Finally," she said breathlessly in a way that made Rachel swoon, "some honesty." She lifted Rachel onto the counter, crushing their lips together again in a passionate exchange. Her hands were on Rachel's sides, her thumb adventuring as it passed over the curve of Rachel's breast from the side, enough to make the brunette's torso arch into the touch.

Rachel had never felt such electricity and a part of her still couldn't believe this was happening. Her brain was short-circuiting and the skin beneath her clothing erupted in goosebumps. Every inch of her was alive. The brunette felt hot tears passing down her cheeks as she kissed Quinn. It was all she had ever wanted – Quinn's honest and genuine affection. The blonde's words still rang through her head even as her legs wrapped around Quinn's hips, 'you mean everything to me.'

It took them both a few moments of the heated exchange to gather their senses. They parted mutually, breathing heavily with foreheads resting against one another.

"I don't want this to be a sex thing," Rachel murmured softly in a tone that said she regretted even having to clarify it.

Quinn laughed, broke away just enough to kiss both of Rachel's hands repeatedly.

It made Rachel melt as those lips brushed each knuckle in a loving manner.

"Remember when Santana said I was in love with someone else?"

Rachel nodded.

"Please tell me you aren't so wonderfully naïve that you don't realize she was telling you without _really _telling you that I'm in love with you."

The words hit Rachel like a fist in her stomach, "I.. I had … I mean I just didn't think…"

Quinn surged forward, broke her off mid-sentence with a kiss that stole Rachel's breath away, "Rachel Berry, I've been in love with you longer than I even know. The second … the _second _ I thought I had even a chance was when …"

"You broke up because of me?"

"It was part of it. And it _wasn't _bad. It was finally acknowledging that if she or I didn't go after what really made us happy, we'd be pretending forever. I don't want to pretend."

Rachel held tight to the locks of Quinn's hair, pulling her in for another kiss. It was an agreement, the signing of a pact. "You love me," she whispered against Quinn's lips disbelievingly, kissing them again.

Quinn laughed between kisses, and Rachel didn't know if the laughter or the kissing made her heart move faster than it had before.

Rachel was suddenly smiling, tears flowing from her eyes, and she clung to Quinn in a desperate kind of way.

"Wouldn't it have been awkward if I had been wrong?"

Rachel laughed at this, pulled away again, cupping either side of the blonde's face, "You weren't. I was just too scared that _I _was wrong. That .. if you knew… you wouldn't feel the same."

"We're both a little stupid," Quinn whispered.

"I've loved you every single day, even the ones that were difficult and terrible for me to endure, back in high school and even now living here while you … weren't _mine,_" Rachel's emotion fell out of her, piling metaphorically at her feet and relieving the weight on her shoulders. The brunette didn't realize she was _actually _crying now, not just leaking. She felt a deep sob well up inside her. "You've been my whole world and I couldn't _have _you," she wrapped her arms around Quinn again, felt the blonde holding her firm within her surprisingly strong arms.

"I'm sorry I made you wait," Quinn's apology was quiet and sincere.

Rachel cried and felt the arms around her that she loved so dearly, her mind replaying moments both torturous and wonderful, like when Quinn had held her during the scary movie. Discovering the deep well of emotion was almost too much to handle. She sniffled and cried, held fast to Quinn as if she was afraid the blonde would disappear.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn whispered against Rachel's ear. "I'm sorry you had to wait. I'm sorry I made you wait, that I didn't know."

"No!" Rachel's adamant word was muffled against Quinn's shoulder, "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault. I never blamed you."

Quinn held her until her emotion had been spent.

Finally when Rachel looked at the blonde, her eyes puffy and reddened, she laughed, "You must think I'm ridiculous."

"Only a little," the blonde teased.

As the reality set in, Rachel found her thumb caressing Quinn's bottom lip. She savored this in a way she hadn't gotten to before, the quiet breathing and dilated pupils. This was real. This wasn't a dream. When she leaned in to capture Quinn's lips, it was the kiss of a seducer, a sensual kiss that pulled a groan from somewhere deep inside Quinn. "I'd say I don't want this to go fast but I've been waiting a _long _time," Rachel's voice was somewhere between a whisper and a growl, and she gave Quinn no choice as she hopped off the counter, leading a willing blonde up the stairs and closing the door behind her.

When Quinn reached out to pull Rachel with her to the bed, the brunette shook her head a little. Rachel's seductive side was finally getting a chance to play, and play it would.

Quinn looked totally powerless but definitely turned on.

The shorter girl was careful and slow. She lifted Quinn's sweater over her head, straddling the blonde in one smooth motion. Her hands explored Quinn's bare skin carefully. She trailed the line of Quinn's collarbone, felt the dip at her throat, and as she did so, she kissed the base of Quinn's throat. The blonde was quietly sighing at the contact, enough to make Rachel smile against the warm skin. Rachel paused briefly enough to guide Quinn's hands breathlessly up underneath her shirt.

Rachel gasped as a bold hand cupped her breast and a thumb traced over an already-erect nipple. The brunette found her hand over the fabric of her shirt, over Quinn's moving hand, urging her even more, breathing heavily as Quinn squeezed and maneuvered over bare skin. The feeling of _guiding _Quinn's touch added a layer of eroticism to the moment. Rachel felt like she was squirming by the time Quinn got her fill of one breast and her other hand took up action on the other. Each touch was like a spark over Rachel's skin, and her torso felt like it was absolutely writhing into Quinn's hands. She urged the blonde more, but this time by kissing her in a way that said one message _very _clearly, the same message she breathed against Quinn's lips, "Fuck me."

The demand was bold enough to make Quinn gasp against Rachel's mouth.

Rachel wanted her so badly that it felt like she was burning up from the inside out. She had dreamed about these hands on her, these hands that would be devoted only to her just as she had been devoted to Quinn all this time.

Quinn was _good, _too, because she had Rachel gasping before she even got Rachel's shirt off. Once the clothing was peeled away, she surprised Rachel by flipping her over on her back, a hungry mouth immediately finding its target. The feeling of Quinn's tongue darting over a nipple just before teeth pulled was enough to make Rachel cry out. _Jesus, _Quinn was good at foreplay. The blonde stopped just quickly enough to take off her bra and return to Rachel's skin. Sucking and biting, she brought Rachel into total submission.

They were fully unclothed within a matter of 15 minutes. Quinn's bare flesh felt perfect against her own, and as Quinn crushed their mouths together in a hungry kiss, Rachel's hands found a firm ass and squeezed, bringing Quinn's hips down to her own. It was almost too much to handle for the both of them, for they broke apart to catch their breaths.

Rachel felt Quinn's fingers moving over her oversensitive nipples again, and when Rachel guided Quinn's hand _lower, _they both gasped. Rachel's hips rose as she pushed Quinn's hand between her thighs. She was practically begging.

Quinn teased her, fingers grazing the edge of her thighs, the meeting place between Rachel's legs and the part of her that was now aching beyond reason. When she finally did brush over Rachel's clit, the brunette groaned and her head dipped upward. Rachel kissed Quinn hard, "Please," she whined as Quinn teased her, dipping a finger sometimes over her clit and sometimes just a little lower.

Hazel eyes burned a hole through Rachel as the blonde pulled away just enough to see the brunette's face. Rachel, aching, gripped Quinn's hand and tried to force it again, pleading. Quinn laughed throatily, and the brunette was to the point of insanity until Quinn surprised the hell out of her by dipping two fingers inside. She was gentle without being gentle, massaging the already-throbbing muscles inside of Rachel.

Quinn's fingers inside of her were enough to make tears well in her eyes. Rachel moaned, gasped as the blonde touched someplace that nobody ever had before – quite literally. When she found that _spot, _she used it against Rachel. She fucked her slow and deep, bringing her close to the edge and bringing her back, over and over again.

"What do you want?" Quinn whispered against Rachel's lips.

Rachel moaned incoherently.

Teeth gripped Rachel's earlobe, "Tell me," she whispered at the writhing girl. Rachel was all but bucking beneath Quinn's touch.

"Make me come," she gasped, surprised at the words that fell from her own lips.

Quinn took the words as fuel, speeding up every motion, letting it touch deeper inside Rachel than before and suddenly her fingers were curling inside of Rachel, felt that _spot, _and kept insisting at it until Rachel's eyes rolled back into her head and everything went white. The brunette's body went rigid underneath Quinn's, and the blonde kissed her back to earth, not removing her touch until Rachel was ready.

Rachel clung shakingly to her lover, kissed her with all the love pouring out of her being. She felt magnificent, felt alive, and felt like finally she could _see clearly._

Quinn's smile was radiant as she brushed Rachel's damp bangs from her forehead, kissed her forehead, her eyes, her mouth, her throat.

When Rachel felt her strength return, she realized now was her chance to finally take the body she'd always wanted. So she did. The brunette gently pressed Quinn into the mattress, kissing her softly as her hands worshipped every inch of Quinn.

She brought Quinn to the same heights she'd just experienced, reveling in the sounds she made and the way the way she said, "_God, _Rachel," as if it was a prayer from those shivering lips. Quinn writhed, scratched at Rachel's shoulders as much as she could as Rachel put to work certain oral skills.

By the time morning came, they were finally too spent to do anything but cover their bare bodies with the blanket and cling to one another, kissing tiredly and lovingly. Rachel fell asleep first, because at some point Quinn had started stroking her hair, unknotting and brushing her fingers through the messy brown locks, and humming something tuneless and loving.

###

When they woke that afternoon, it was as if neither could actually believe that it had happened, it had _finally _happened. Rachel smiled as brilliantly as she ever had the moment she realized Quinn was kissing her awake. She held onto the blonde.

"I'd ask you if you want breakfast but I think we were busy during the breakfast hours," Quinn's tone was playful, but she pressed her lips lovingly to Rachel's.

"Lunch then," Rachel toyed with the ends of Quinn's hair, still looking at her in a state of slight disbelief. "I love you," she whispered quietly, thumb stroking Quinn's bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss.

She'd have to thank Santana for getting the hell out of the apartment for the week.


	4. Belonging & Belongings

Pairing: Faberry, Brittana

Synopsis: (4 of 4) Santana and Brittany return home to find Quinn and Rachel have finally done the deed. In celebration, the four go out on a double date.

Author's Note: Last chapter! Lyrics from The Zombies, "Tell Her No." Even though this was a relatively short fic, I'm glad that you all enjoyed it so. This isn't one I plan on continuing, just because I believe it's better as a standalone story. I appreciate every comment and view I've gotten on this story – it truly means the world to me that there are others who want to share my writing. Thank you.

###

**FOUR**

_If she tells you "I love you,"  
Just remember she said that to me,  
Don't leave me now for her love belongs to me._

###

"Jesus Christ and all the Saints in heaven," Santana mocked, hands in the air, palms spread like she was a-hallelujahin' in Church on Sunday. "It smells like sex in here!"

Rachel's eyes went wide and she flushed beet red. "It does not!"

"No, but the fact that you just blushed like a whore in church means that I am right and you two got it on."

"God, you are _so _mature," Quinn groaned and pressed a palm to Santana's back. "Tell me how you function as an adult. I need to know these things."

Santana chuckled to herself and bit off a chunk of beef jerky, "Only if you tell me how good Berry is in bed," she countered, pointing the meat in Rachel's direction.

Rachel quite literally ducked out of sight and crawled into the living room, murmuring, "Just kill me now." Brittany laughed and helped Rachel to her feet, giving her a sympathetic look.

Quinn was laughing a little and shoving Santana off of her as the Latina mimed smooches at her.

"Look, I'm Rachel, I'm probably a great kisser and a great lay because of all that training I get as a singer," Santana mocked playfully and went from the kitchen to the living room, where she hovered like Nosferatu and collapsed on top of Rachel. Rachel responded by pushing and smacking at Santana's arms, giggling when Santana attacked her ticklish spots.

"God, we're such adults. I can't even handle it," Quinn was stating aloud in bewilderment. "We should be on an after school special about what adults should do to handle mature situations."

"What's that, my pressed lemon?" Santana's head popped up over the couch. "She gave you what? How many times?"

"Oh my _GOD, _Santana!" Rachel gasped at the words coming out of her best friend's mouth, covering it with her hand. It worked. Momentarily. Until Santana licked Rachel's palm in a sloppy way, laughing joyfully and careening around the living room, chasing Rachel until the brunette finally lay on the floor, face down, in total defeat. "My best friend is the most embarrassing person alive." Her words were so muffled against the floor that she doubted Santana could hear her. Santana was sitting on top of her, her chin in her hands.

"Oh, I know honey. You were in a dry spell. It's okay. It's really okay," she pretended to soothe Rachel until the shorter girl peeled herself from underneath Santana.

"God, get off me." Rachel huffed, but couldn't help but laugh as Santana gathered her in her arms and kissed her face all over. "Ew, stop it."

"Oh you love it. You're all happy because you have your best friend and now you have your dream girlfriend and you just can't believe how lucky you are," Santana stated, hugging Rachel into her arms until the shorter girl's arms went limp in defeat.

"Shut up, Lopez," Rachel stuck her tongue out. She saw Quinn watching with a jovial glint in her eye, and felt a swelling kind of happiness in her heart.

Weeks ago, she had been ready to give up. She figured that she'd never be with Quinn and that the love she had for her was something that needed to be gotten rid of, ignored, tossed away. Now she was gladder than she could have ever imagined. As all this passed through her mind, she wrapped her arms around Santana's neck and hugged her.

Santana feigned disgust and detached herself. "We're going out to dinner tonight, the four of us, and I'm paying. Somebody got a big fat paycheck from work." She patted her pocket where there was a noticeable lump.

"I thought you were just happy to see me," Quinn joked.

"You wish," Santana teased the blonde before taking Brittany's hand. "What do you say?"

"Dinner would be nice," Rachel sat up, fixing her messy hair. She wrinkled her nose and saw Quinn watching her with an obviously adoring gaze. She felt an infectious joy fill her again, and she smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Quinn agreed.

Rachel figured it probably wasn't best to go to a nice restaurant in her pajamas, so she trotted up the stairs to her bedroom. As she was wondering what she was going to wear, she felt hands on her waist from behind. Quinn's familiar perfume reached her before her warmth did. She settled against Quinn, squeezing herself against her lover.

"Isn't it weird? Having things be … just right?"

"Weird in a good way. Like it just took that last piece to fall into place." She turned around in Quinn's arms, wrapped them around Quinn's waist, and leaned up to kiss her. Quinn's chapstick tasted like cherries, and the way the blonde ran her tongue along Rachel's bottom lip made her moan just a little. It sent shivers through every little nerve-ending.

Quinn's kiss was loving and consuming. It made Rachel swoon a little bit in her arms, to think that she inspired that kind of love in Quinn. It was an all-enveloping sort of feeling, and as she breathed the air between them once they broke apart, she searched those hazel eyes. Her thumb brushed over Quinn's cheek, the corner of her lip, adoring the very look on her face.

"Hi," Quinn spoke first.

Rachel laughed a little, blushing. She gave Quinn a quick peck before pulling away, "Now that I got a kiss, go away so I can figure out what to wear. You're distracting."

"Okay," Quinn sighed. When she went to sit down on the bed to watch, Rachel felt laughter bubble up from her chest and she gently shoved the blonde out of the room. "Okay, _okay, _I get it." Quinn winked at her before heading down the stairs.

Rachel closed the door and locked it, just in case. She finally picked out a decent outfit, something casual but dressy so Rachel wouldn't seem out of place if they went to a really nice place or a … not so nice place. She tied her hair back and ran her brush through her bangs, satisfied with her appearance.

A wolf-whistle greeted her. Santana wiggled her eyebrows, "Lookin' good."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Lopez."

"Ouch. I was giving you a compliment, _Berry._"

"Children," Quinn shoved Santana's shoulder and the Latina mocked offense.

"Let's go! Auntie Tana is paying for a nice dinner."

###

Santana picked Gotham Bar and Grill, and the place was just as nice as Rachel had heard. She felt Quinn's hand slip into hers as they were lead to their booth, and the brunette felt a little underdressed. However, she saw more than one person wearing a nice pair of jeans, so she supposed she didn't look _too _out of place.

"Might as well get used to it if you're going to be on Broadway," Santana seemed to notice Rachel's nervousness and gently tapped her friend on the shoulder. "Besides, you're getting some 'hey hottie' looks. Good thing your girlfriend is here."

Rachel beamed, and squeezed Quinn's hand. There was a responding squeeze as they were seated. The foursome conversed as they mulled over what to get to eat.

Santana got them a bottle of wine, and between them they drank the whole thing. There was a strangely celebratory mood between them, and as their dinner came it still didn't go away. Rachel was practically bouncing in her seat, but the hand on her thigh kept her calm. Quinn's fingers were lightly trailing over her thigh, even as they ate, and she realized it was the first time she was in public with Quinn as her _girlfriend._

If only McKinley could see them now. Rachel smiled as she caught Quinn's gaze, and she covered Quinn's hand with hers under the table, squeezing.

She was really kind of in love with this woman. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Surrounded by her friends, and sitting beside her girlfriend, she knew this was as good as it gets. And by all means, that wasn't as bad as it sounded. The brunette felt her skin humming wherever Quinn's fingers touched – moving stray bits of hair behind Rachel's ear, touching her hand, her arm, her back – and it was hard not to look like an overly affectionate couple when all she wanted to do was take Quinn's face in her hands and kiss her.

###

The girls returned home, Santana holding an empty bottle of wine and saluting with it before Brittany helped her up the stairs. The foursome split into respective twosomes.

Rachel couldn't get Quinn to herself quick enough. She dragged the blonde into the bedroom and before Quinn could say anything, the shorter girl was cupping either side of Quinn's face and pulling her into a kiss that not only promised _forever _but it promised some decidedly … rated M things.

The diva was a little glad to hear the moan that escaped Quinn's throat when she bit Quinn's bottom lip and pulled. Her tongue tasted the spot she'd just bit before her hands slipped up Quinn's shirt.

"Rach," Quinn whispered more out of arousal than anything, and the sound of it intoxicated Rachel. The brunette rolled two pert nipples between her thumb and forefingers, tugging just enough to make Quinn gasp into her mouth. Now _that _was sexy. She repeated the process, got the same gasp, and didn't give Quinn enough time to recover before she was shoving Quinn down onto the bed and pulling her pants off her.

Rachel could tear clothing off in an instant, she found. Soon her mouth was attacking the skin of Quinn's hips and thighs, fingers clasping Quinn's ass. Above her, Quinn's head was already rolled back. Rachel slid briefly up the blonde's body, her palm slipping up the inside of her lover's thigh. "I don't think you _really _know how much I love you," Rachel kissed Quinn, speaking the words with both tender and predatory implications. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and she watched Quinn's skin erupt in goosebumps wherever she touched. "Wanna find out?"

Quinn bit her bottom lip, nodded; she looked like she was pleading. Rachel felt wet folds beneath her fingertips already, and grinned in a vicious kind of way as Quinn's hips rolled upward into her touch.

Rachel clicked her tongue, "Not yet," she bit Quinn's bottom lip again and kissed her. She removed her hand much to Quinn's protest, and settled her hips in between Quinn's thighs as she grabbed a nipple with her teeth. She'd learned that her blonde liked it a little rough. She tugged then covered the flesh with her mouth. As she sucked, bit, and teased her way down Quinn's torso, Rachel savored every whimper and gasp that came from her mouth.

She dragged her lips against Quinn's thighs, tasting the soft flesh there, and felt Quinn's muscles quivering in anticipation. Rachel waited until Quinn couldn't bare it anymore; she flicked her tongue over an eager clit then sucked pleasurably at the nub. It was almost too wonderful to behold. She couldn't believe she got to make love to this woman for the rest of her life. At least, she hoped.

Rachel found herself just as turned on as Quinn as she teased and sucked at the blonde's sensitive nub. Finally, she got Quinn to beg. She rewarded her with one, then two fingers. She massaged, urged Quinn along that blinding path to oblivion, her thumb taking over for her tongue as she found herself too hungry to resist kissing Quinn's gasping lips. Quinn's body was rolling and bucking against Rachel's now-experienced touch, hurried all the more by the way Rachel whispered encouragements into her ear. The brunette had to admit, the way Quinn scratched her back and left welts was kind of sexy.

She didn't let Quinn down right away. She sped up the pace even after Quinn reached oblivion the first time. At Rachel's urging, Quinn ended up gasping aloud, "How are you doing this?" By the end of the first round, Rachel was feeling pretty cocky.

Until she realized that bringing Quinn that far over the edge meant major payback.

Quinn surprised her by fucking her from behind. Rachel was grasping onto the headboard of their bed and begging for release by the time Quinn was done with her.

When they were both spent, Rachel was still kind of gasping and whimpering. Her body trembled as Quinn kissed her back to planet earth. Her eyes widened, and she laughed in a turned-on way, "Oh my god," she whispered against her lover's panting lips.

They didn't let each other go.

Rachel wondered if they'd always make love until sunrise, but she supposed not. As she lay exhausted in Quinn's arms, tracing the veins in Quinn's wrist, she smiled blissfully. Even an hour of nights like that could keep her a very happy girl.

###

"Jesus," Santana sighed. "How many boxes do you have?"

"Enough for you to carry," Quinn answered, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

Rachel was leaning over the railing, watching the girls bring Quinn's things in. It had been two months since that night at Gotham, and Quinn was moving in. Despite things going sour at Yale, Quinn had decided it was for the best and asked Rachel if it was okay if she moved in. To which she'd squealed and jumped into Quinn's arms.

Santana had lifted a hand in response, and said something about more being merrier. The smirk on her face confirmed to Rachel that she was almost as happy as Rachel.

Besides the whole loud sex thing.

Keeping it down had proved to be a challenge they'd yet to overcome. Santana got used to it.

When the last box came in, Santana closed the front door and collapsed melodramatically into her girlfriend's arms. Brittany had grinned and pressed her lips to Santana's forehead, tugging the Latina against her and holding her there.

"Unpacking time!"

Rachel groaned, "You are just a little too enthusiastic about unpacking when we _just _packed all of your things," she arched an eyebrow, but was greeted with a soft kiss to her lips. Butterflies settled in her stomach and she made a giddy sound. "Point taken."

So it was like that – the girl got the girl and she got to keep her best friend. That's all Rachel had wanted in the first place.


End file.
